


Balneum

by bickz



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Bathing/Washing, Bathtub Sex, Canon Universe, Creampie, First Time, Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nipple Piercings, Self-Doubt, Smut, Tongue Piercings, virgin prompto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-01-28 02:36:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12596248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bickz/pseuds/bickz
Summary: If someone had told Prompto that this lumbering mass of muscle and scars and ink would make him feel so warm and content when they first met, Prompto would have never believed them. If only Prompto had known how sweet and gentle Gladio would be, then maybe Prompto could have prepared himself for the inevitable crush he would develop on the Royal Shield. Instead, he doesn't realise any of this until he finds himself in a bathtub with the man.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i've been writing this fanfic for nearly a year now and i just needed to post some of it to get a response and inspiration to continue/finish it;; so i apologise if the ending seems a bit abrupt, but there is definitely more to come!

It has been three days.

Three days of roaming the deserts of Leide with the sun baking the boys to a crisp, much to a despairingly pale Prompto's dismay.

Three days of Noctis nearly passing out mid-warp during combat with MTs due to his utter exhaustion.

Three days of Ignis chugging more than his usual fill of Ebony and gracelessly spilling it on himself in his weary state.

Three days of riding the chocobos until even Gladio complained about how sore his ass is.

Three. Whole. Days.

No sleep. No dinner. No showers.

It's just been “go here and drive out these rabid Spiracorns” and “go to the woods and kill the Goblins that are harassing travelers.” And, of course, being the dutiful Prince that he is, Noctis couldn’t say no -- or rather, Ignis  _ insisted  _ that their Prince “can't turn a blind eye to the pleas of his people”.

Thus, that’s how the four find themselves in the Regalia with Ignis struggling to keep his focus on the road, removing a hand from the wheel to rub at the bridge of his nose in an attempt to bring back his concentration. As usual, Noctis is slumped in the backseat, stealing a few winks of sleep with his chin resting on his chest in a position that literally no one else could deem comfortable. In the passenger’s seat, Prompto finds it difficult to keep his eyes open as well, despite how he usually can’t settle down in the car. There’s just so much to see and take photos of, but that’s not the case this afternoon. This time, the only thing on Prompto’s mind is a good night’s rest and a bellyful of Ignis’s cooking. Yet, the boy isn’t even sure if they’ll get that tonight. After all, they’ve gone without those two necessities for three days straight.

“Are we stopping yet?” Prompto whines, flopping his head over to give Ignis a pout. By now, Prompto’s griping about the past three days has gotten on everyone’s nerves, especially Ignis’s. Even the usually easygoing Noctis has snapped at his best friend at least once during their streak. 

Ignis doesn’t move, doesn’t even respond with his typical exasperated sigh, and Prompto fears that he’ll just be ignored again. “Soon.” The advisor’s tone is uncharacteristically quiet, and oddly enough, that makes Prompto hopeful.

Reinvigorated by the response, Prompto swivels in his seat to shoot Gladio an excited grin, but even the big guy is dozing off in the backseat. “Hey!” the blonde yelps, feeling indignant at the sight. How  _ dare  _ Gladio sleep while he can’t!

Gladio stirs and groans, long lashes fluttering open before dull amber eyes meet Prompto’s. “What? Are there daemons already?” the man grumbles, bringing his hands up to rub the sleep from his face. He sounds far less alarmed than he normally would at the prospect of enemies, which just goes to show that three days without proper rest truly is the worst and that Prompto isn't just a whiny baby.

“No, it’s not even night yet,” Prompto replies mockingly. “Iggy said that we’ll be stopping soon. And that means showers and clean beds and hot food!”

In the dim light cast by the setting sun, Prompto can see the slight upturn to Gladio’s mouth. “That’s… really great,” he sighs in relief. Some life returns to his features and seeing Gladio appear so serene… it makes Prompto's chest ache, and he quickly turns back around. He fights with the urge to sneak a quick snapshot of Gladio in his half-asleep state.

Before the sun dips completely below the horizon, Ignis is pulling the Regalia into a parking spot at some crummy motel in Leide. The pale yellow paint of the building is peeling and chipped in places to reveal the worn brickwork underneath, and the porch wrapping around the front of the building is in just as bad, if not worse disrepair, with boards splintering from the harsh sun. The sign above the motel’s entrance flickers ominously with the ‘M’ in ‘MOTEL’ out of commission, something that would elicit a giggle from Prompto if the circumstances were different. But, after three sleepless nights, there isn’t a single thing about this situation that Prompto can find amusing. 

When Prompto does realise where they are, and that Ignis isn’t just pulling some dirty prank, he lets out a loud dramatic groan and slides bonelessly down his seat. On any other day, just having a solid roof and walls around him would be more favourable than nothing at all, but not today. Some lame, rundown motel just won’t cut it this time. Not after the past three days that they just endured.

“A  _ motel _ , Iggy!  _ Really _ ?!” Prompto all but cries, watching as the cold-hearted man pushes his glasses up his nose and silently steps out of the parked car.

Ignis doesn't dignify Prompto with a response, merely walks around the Regalia to where Noct is still sound asleep in the backseat and begins to gently wake him. Prompto pouts, crossing his arms with annoyance and deciding that he's going to just sit here until Ignis gets back into the car and drives them to a  _ proper _ hotel, which they rightfully deserve! They've gone  _ three whole fucking days _ without much rest or sustenance, fighting round after round of wild beasts and daemons and MTs -- the least Ignis could do is treat them to a fancy room with a beautiful view in Galdin Quay. 

“Hey, you comin’?” 

Prompto lifts his head to spot Gladio standing over him with his arms crossed and a brow perked -- his “no-bullshit” look. But, this time, that stare doesn't stir any obedience in Prompto. If anything, Gladio giving him attention has spurred the boy to act more like a brat. Ignis had the right idea of ignoring Prompto and disappearing into the motel with a half-awake Noctis.

“No,” Prompto grumbles, sinking further into his seat and looking away.

He can hear Gladio sigh in irritation before the car door clicks open. Prompto immediately scrambles to pull it shut, but the other man is stronger. In an instant, Gladio is at Prompto's side and is sliding his large arms underneath the smaller boy. Gladio easily lifts Prompto, even with the boy's sudden thrashing. When one of Prompto's hands collides with Gladio's face, he growls threateningly. The blonde hesitates for only a moment, but then he's back to squirming, firm in his belief that they  _ deserve _ a room in a nice hotel,  _ gods damnit.  _

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Gladio grumbles as he deftly maneuvers Prompto over his shoulder, hooking his arms around the boy's skinny legs to keep him securely in place.

“Gl-Gladio--!” Prompto screeches, but he quickly shuts up when a large palm connects with his ass. Something deep inside the boy stirs, whispers  _ yes please more _ , and he’s quick to smother that embarrassingly dirty urge. He must just be  _ really _ exhausted.

“Now, we are going into that motel and we are going to eat and clean ourselves up and have a good night's rest, okay?” Gladio sounds firm, more tired than annoyed much to Prompto's surprise. “A clean bed is a clean bed, no matter how high the thread count of the sheets is. You're so tired, you won't even know the difference.”

Prompto sags in defeat, letting his hands hang limp across Gladio's broad back as he tries not to think about how warm and firm the shield is. “Okay, fine, whatever,” he murmurs. 

The larger man huffs before walking towards the motel. If he weren't so beat, Prompto would definitely be demanding that he be set on his feet to protect his fragile image. But right now, being carried by Gladio isn't so bad. Actually, being this close, feeling his heartbeat and each strong breath… it’s  _ really  _ nice.

Inside, Prompto can hear Ignis talking and keys jingling. He lifts his head enough to see Noctis leaning sleepily against his advisor, and he can't help smiling at the endearing sight. His attention is abruptly drawn by the two sets of keys clinking in Ignis's hands; Prompto furrows his brow in confusion. They always get one room, usually the cheapest, but preferably with two beds. Ignis never lets them splurge on more than what's necessary, always prattling on about increasing cost efficiency  _ blah blah blah _ . Prompto has had to sleep on the floor and on couches more often than he would like for the sake of saving some gil. So, why does Ignis seem to have keys for two rooms?

“Here's the keys to your room. I trust that you will follow through with your payment?” Ignis speaks to Gladio, his voice low as if they're hashing out some shady deal.

“Iggy, when have I ever done you wrong?” Gladio swipes the offered keys and chuckles at a pointed look from the other man. Without another word, Gladio begins walking down the hall with Prompto still over his shoulder.

“H-hey, wait a second… what was--”

Prompto is cut off by Gladio roughly readjusting him, obviously to shut him up. “I thought it would be nice to have our own rooms for a change.”

“But, why-- wait, am  _ I _ getting my  _ own room _ ?” Prompto breathes, astonished. Maybe Ignis is turning a new leaf!

Gladio chuckles. “No, of course not. We don't have  _ that _ much gil to throw away.” 

“Ouch, rude.” 

“You and I get a room, and Iggy and Noct get their own,” Gladio finishes, ignoring the blonde’s wounded pride.

Prompto huffs, not making sense of all of this. Who set up these sleeping arrangements? If anything, Noctis and Prompto should room together. After all, Ignis and Gladio are the ones that just  _ have _ to wake up at the asscrack of dawn to drink Ebony and read the newspaper and do whatever else matured adults do. It would make sense that they would have a room together to prevent disturbing their sleeping beauties. Wouldn't it just be more convenient that way? Or is Prompto missing something?

A few moments later, Gladio stops in front of a door. Prompto can hear him rustling with the keys and doorknob before unlocking it and stepping inside, with the boy still securely in his grasp; Gladio kicks the door shut behind them. The blonde opens his mouth, ready to finally snap about having two working legs, when he is suddenly grabbed around the waist and launched backwards. Prompto lets out a startled scream as his back collides with a soft surface, and he quickly realises that he's been thrown onto the bed.

One of those large calloused hands instantly covers Prompto's mouth, cutting off his shrieking. “ _ Shhhhhush _ , Prompto!” Gladio hisses, staring down at the boy with urgency. “You'll get us kicked out! Or worse, scolded by Ignis.”

Prompto cracks a small smile around Gladio's hand, letting out a nervous giggle while his heart pounds in his ears from the rush of adrenaline. Gladio is kneeling on the bed beside Prompto, and something about this proximity and position makes the boy feel  _ warm _ all over. Or maybe it's the adrenaline. Either way, he immediately reaches up and pulls Gladio's palm away, resisting the desire to entwine those thick fingers with his own and pull the larger man closer. 

“Well, don't  _ chuck _ me onto the bed then! I'm very delicate, y’know.” Prompto takes a steadying breath, disguising it as a dramatic huff. 

A smirk curls one side of Gladio's mouth, and it makes Prompto's heart squeeze. He fears for a moment that the other man can sense his lewd thoughts from being manhandled. The blonde abruptly turns his head away, closing his eyes and nuzzling into the bed to break eye contact. Anything to not have those intense amber eyes burning into him, digging up each of his secret desires. “Hey, wait, don't get too comfy. You're absolutely filthy,” Gladio chides, moving his hand to gently grab Prompto's wrist. “We need to clean up first.”

Prompto lets out a whine as Gladio stands, but allows himself to be pulled off the creaky mattress and onto his feet, noting just how light he feels in Gladio’s grasp. He glances at his arm, stretched out between himself and Gladio while he’s being led to the bathroom, noticing all the dirt and grime that covers his skin from his shoulder to where Gladio holds his wrist. A disgusted frown crosses Prompto’s face, his eyes travelling to examine Gladio's arms as well. The normally striking ink on the shield’s flesh is muddled, dulled by a thicker layer of caked mud. It’s not an uncommon look for the boys to be so utterly filthy, especially after their three-day streak. Nonetheless, it’s still gross and uncomfortable, and Prompto can’t wait to wash up. Besides a good meal, it’s all he’s been able to think about. 

“U-um, did you wanna shower first?” Prompto offers, desperate to act normal despite the fact that his heart continues to pound fervently. 

The realisation that he’s alone in a room with Gladio is suddenly suffocating him and causing each of his senses to hone in on the larger man. Even though it’s just the two of them here, Prompto feels overwhelmed and slightly claustrophobic. He takes a breath and peeks up through his bangs at Gladio, and he notices just how close they are. When did that happen?

“Well, of course I wanna shower first. Can't you smell my nasty BO?” Gladio snorts, standing straight and lifting his arm to expose his armpit for emphasis. 

Prompto is suddenly  _ very  _ aware of Gladio's pungent musk. He laughs and brings his free hand up to cover his nose. “Ew,  _ gross _ , dude!” he exclaims. But, really, the smell isn't so bad. There's definitely the overwhelming odour of salty sweat, yet, underneath that is something earthy and reminiscent of wet moss that just screams  _ Gladio _ . Prompto wants to take in a big whiff, wants to figure out why it's so appealing and making his mouth water. 

A mischievous look comes over Gladio’s features, his lips parting in a disarming smirk and his brow lowering to cast a shadow over his eyes. Prompto is caught off-guard by the shift in the other man’s demeanor and can only stare back, absolutely bewildered and maybe a little entranced. In a blink, Gladio yanks Prompto forward by his wrist that is still in his firm grasp. The boy snaps out of it, and he scrambles to keep his footing and not fall face-first into Gladio's chest. However, Gladio seems to have very different plans as he wraps his other arm around the back of Prompto’s neck and jerks his head downward, towards his pectorals, and closes the distance until the blonde is tucked under his solid bicep. 

“What was that? Did you just call me  _ gross _ ?” Gladio teases, securing Prompto in a headlock and rustling his hair teasingly.

Prompto has never felt so conflicted in his life. On one hand, this is revolting. Being trapped in a grown man's sweaty armpit that has been festering for  _ days _ is basically a death sentence. But, on the other hand, Prompto is quickly discovering that Gladio really doesn't smell that bad, even without having showered in a while. As a matter of fact, Prompto might venture to say he enjoys the stench.

All Prompto can do is squirm and try to release himself from this compromising position by pushing his palms against Gladio’s amazingly toned forearm. He manages to squeak out a strangled “C’mon,  _ dude _ ”, to which Gladio just chuckles and musses his hair some more, his grip unrelenting. 

With Prompto still in an awkward headlock, Gladio begins to walk them to the bathroom once more. He shoulders the door open and flicks on the lights with his free hand. “As punishment for your disrespect, you'll have to bathe me,” Gladio speaks up, not missing a beat.

It takes a second for Prompto's sleep-deprived mind to digest what Gladio just said, and even then, he has to reprocess it because there is no fucking way the other man just said that. This  _ has _ to be a joke. Or his overactive imagination is playing tricks on him. “Wait,  _ what _ ??!” the boy squawks breathlessly. He gives one last slap to Gladio's arm and is finally released.

After fumbling to stand upright and catch his breath, Prompto's wide befuddled eyes look up to find Gladio grinning down at him. He searches for some sign of a punchline, but besides that gorgeous smile, Gladio seems dead serious. The blonde can feel his cheeks burning, and he snaps his head around, needing to break eye contact, but his gaze ends up on the bathtub instead. His mind goes hazy as he envisions Gladio in that porcelain tub, completely naked under a layer of bubbles--  _ No _ , stop it. That is  _ not _ happening.

“It's too small,” Prompto blurts out.

“Hm, I guess we'll just have to find out,” Gladio muses, and Prompto can hear a rustling of clothes and turns just in time to watch Gladio casually pull his tank top over his head.

“ _ Shit _ ,” Prompto breathes before he claps a hand over his mouth to silence himself, and Gladio snorts out a chuckle. The blonde immediately looks away again, his face as red as a tomato. 

“Well? Get the water started.” Gladio nods towards the faucet, his smile falling slightly to show just how firm he is in his order.

Prompto tenses, the very fiber of his being aching as he struggles with the thought of disobeying. This can't be real. However, he ultimately finds himself turning on his heel, sitting on the edge of the tub and leaning over to twist the knob. The sound of rushing water echoes in the small room, and Prompto occupies himself with watching the tub fill up, painfully slow. He can't believe this is happening. What has come over Gladio? Why did he demand something so… bizarre? And why is he going along with this?

Timidly, Prompto turns his head to steal a glance at Gladio. He finds the larger man leaning against the sink, already stripped down to just his military green boxer-briefs. There’s a small voice in Prompto’s mind that whines about not having gotten to watch Gladio undress, but he swiftly silences it. This really isn’t the time for his mind to be so gross. Nevertheless, who could blame Prompto when Gladio is standing there mostly naked with his beefy arms crossed and a half smile on his full lips as he stares down at the boy.

“Wh-what?” Prompto's voice cracks, and he quickly clears his throat. “Why are you smiling… like that.”

“I'm just glad that I was right,” Gladio hums, unfolding his arms and stepping closer.

Prompto considers throwing himself into the tub and drowning to end this humiliation because Gladio's crotch is right at eye level and he's so close --  _ too close _ \-- and gods damn it all, he can’t help himself from staring _ right there _ . With each step,  _ it _ moves, and Prompto swallows hard. Luckily, curiosity saves the blonde, and he wills himself to crane his neck to meet that smoldering amber stare. Prompto licks his lips before inquiring, “Right? About what?” He feels so very small and totally exposed under that gaze.

Gladio stands right in front of Prompto and just a foot closer and they would be touching. It may be Prompto's wild imagination, but he can feel the electricity between them, his skin prickling with goosebumps from how charged the air feels. His heart races and there are butterflies in his stomach that make his fingers quiver with anxiety. Over the past month, they've shared a few moments similar to, but never quite as intimate as this. Each one is engraved into Prompto’s mind and feel so  _ real  _ and tangible, as if they’re one of his cherished photographs. 

\---

It started four weeks ago with Gladio clapping Prompto on the back and complimenting him for a good shot during combat, but his palm lingered on Prompto a moment too long and their eyes locked, something passing between their ardent stares before they awkwardly pulled away. Prompto had never felt so warm and fuzzy inside from merely being praised. He tried to tell himself that he was just flustered from the fight, but the gentle tingling that Gladio’s hand left behind told him otherwise. 

Some days later, they had an encounter in the tent, where Prompto woke up to Gladio's warm breath on his neck and their bodies pressed together. It took Prompto a couple of minutes to realise that he wasn’t dreaming anymore, that he was actually awake and was definitely being spooned by Gladio. His heart lurched into his throat, and he could hear his blood rushing in his ears. Prompto had thought that Gladio unconsciously embraced him in his sleep, but once Prompto gathered the courage, he rolled over to find alert amber eyes staring back at him. He certainly had not expected that. Prompto quickly scrambled out of the dark tent, sputtering the excuse that he needed to take a leak, and he proceeded to avoid Gladio all morning, unsure of how he was supposed to respond to being embraced like that. It wasn’t  _ bad _ , just… weird. Thankfully, Gladio gave Prompto his distance and didn’t pursue the subject. Prompto considered the idea of pretending that nothing had happened. 

By that afternoon, Prompto had managed to calm himself down enough to act normal around Gladio. Well, normal  _ enough _ considering his heart was beating a mile a minute, and his face felt like it was on fire just from  _ thinking _ about the other man. After a peaceful dinner, Prompto worked up the nerve to approach Gladio and offered to show off some of the photos he had taken throughout the day. What began as a few feet of distance between them gradually dissolved into the pair huddled comfortably together next to the fire, nearly in each other's laps as Prompto excitedly flipped through his camera reel. Gladio's proximity and warmth began to grow on Prompto, becoming less of an awkward presence and more of a comforting sentiment. During the following days, they casually brushed shoulders and shared secret smiles, each interaction making Prompto's heart swell.

Their most recent episode took place only a week ago, after a rough battle in which Prompto recklessly took a direct hit from an Iron Giant. Even with an elixir soothing his wounds, Prompto struggled to climb onto his Chocobo. He winced at the pain from his sprained ankle, until large hands wrapped around his hips and effortlessly lifted him into his seat. When Prompto turned around, he found Gladio gazing up at him, his eyes glossy and his brows knitted in concern; It’s a look Prompto rarely sees on the dauntless royal shield and having it directed towards himself made Prompto feel  _ important _ . Gladio had taken one of Prompto’s hands, brought it to his mouth, and softly kissed his fingers, and where his lips touched, Prompto’s skin burned in the best way possible. With the most tender voice Prompto had ever heard Gladio use, he whispered, “Please be careful, Prom. I care about you. A lot.” Prompto thought he was going to faint right there. How the boy managed to not fall off his Chocobo on the ride back to camp still baffles him to this day.

\---  

And yet, even after all of that, Prompto is far from prepared to deal with being in a bathroom  _ alone  _ with a half-naked Gladio. 

The anticipation of what is to come has Prompto grappling with his self-doubt and his suppressed desires. He wants to touch Gladio  _ so badly _ , but what if he’s misreading the signs? Should he wait for the other man to make the first move? It’s driving Prompto insane -- he’s never been the patient sort. But, he also isn’t the most astute, has never been able to read people and pick up on social cues the way his friends can. And the last thing Prompto wants to do is ruin  _ whatever _ this is. He tells himself that he has to settle with just basking in Gladio’s presence for now, should be thanking the Six for this moment anyway, because this might be all they ever amount to. 

One movement from Gladio shatters Prompto’s daze, and he realises with a sudden, sharp inhale that he has been holding his breath for the greater part of a minute. Blue eyes widen, trying to watch each of Gladio’s rippling muscles, every shift of his dark hair, the way the fluorescent light shimmers off of his sun-kissed skin. But then, Prompto’s vision is monopolised by Gladio’s face looming down to his height. He’s so close, and Prompto’s hungry eyes scramble to memorise every pore and hair follicle, the way his scar cuts through his eyebrow, how his irises look almost golden in this light. The boy’s stare wanders lower, and he gasps involuntarily at the sight of those lips -- full and wet and absolutely heavenly -- coming closer, closer… 

Prompto squeezes his eyes shut, certain that this is all a figment of his delirious mind. There’s no way this is actually happening; no way that Gladio is leaning closer, pressing his mouth lightly against Prompto’s, his warmth and earthy scent intoxicating Prompto and making his head swirl dizzyingly. Gladio’s lips are amazingly soft and dry, and his lower lip practically dominates Prompto’s entire mouth. He wants-- no,  _ needs _ to commit every detail about this moment to his memory. Prompto can feel himself melting into that gentle contact, shoulders relaxing and fingers unclenching from his jacket hem. If this is really just a dream, it’s the best one he’s ever had.

When Gladio begins to pull away, Prompto immediately snaps his eyes open and is swift enough to bear witness to those beautiful, long lashes flutter apart before amber eyes are locking onto his own. Prompto is completely dazzled, paralysed like a deer in headlights, wholeheartedly at Gladio’s mercy. If he really wanted to, the larger man could throttle Prompto and meet no resistance; Prompto would probably even thank him afterward. 

“Hm, I really was right,” Gladio mutters, and Prompto can see the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile. “You’re just as smitten with me as I am with you.”

“ _ What--? _ ” Prompto squeaks defensively, and he can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. He tries to turn his head away, wanting to prevent himself from swooning under that sincere gaze, but a large palm comes up to cup his cheek and keep him facing Gladio.

“Prom, babe, it’s okay.” 

Prompto sucks in a deep breath and slowly looks up at Gladio. He never thought that he would need reassurance at a moment like this, when he’s supposed to feel the most exhilarated and loved and  _ happy _ . But, somehow, it just feels  _ right _ . Because, despite Gladio’s open affection, Prompto feels the farthest thing from loved, even right now with that calloused palm cradling his face so tenderly. Prompto feels pathetic, undeserving of such warmth and kindness, like maybe Gladio is just taking pity on him. However, the larger man’s expression is genuine and welcoming and everything that Prompto  _ needs _ . If only Prompto knew how worthy he is of that gaze.  

“But, what about--”

“Shhh, everything is fine, babe,” Gladio coos, his thumb rubbing soothingly over Prompto’s ruddy cheek. The soft look on Gladio’s face has the boy swallowing back his anxiety, pushing it down, down, down even as it stings the back of his throat and makes his eyes water. 

“Okay, yeah, fine,” Prompto breathes, and he musters a small smile despite how his stomach churns from nerves.

Gladio seems content with that response and pulls back, retreating his hand to his side and directing his attention to the tub. Prompto almost whines in protest, feeling suddenly very cold without the other man’s heat. “Looks like the water is ready,” he comments with a nod behind the blonde. 

Prompto whips his head around, having totally forgotten about the bath and expecting to find it overflowing. Miraculously, the water is at the perfect height, and Prompto hastily fumbles with the faucet, nearly losing his balance and toppling in. He sighs in relief that the astrals have at least spared him from this embarrassment. 

“Alright, well, your bath is ready. So, uh, I’ll just leave you to it then,” Prompto speaks up, his small voice echoing off the walls. Now that the water is no longer running, it’s eerily quiet in the room, and Prompto is sure that Gladio can hear his heart pounding. 

Deliberately avoiding eye contact, Prompto removes himself from the edge of the bathtub and stands on shaky legs. He presses his back against the wall, attempting to give Mostly Naked Gladio a wide berth in the cramped room as he shuffles towards the door, towards freedom from this excruciatingly awkward situation. However, just as Prompto had expected, a shadow falls over him, and a large arm comes up to block his path. He sucks in a breath, holds it for a bit, before exhaling in a sigh. 

“Not so fast there, blondie,” Gladio rumbles, and his voice sounds so close that Prompto can only assume that the other man is leaning right over him.

“ _ D-dude _ , you can't be serious about… about  _ that _ ,” Prompto protests, keeping his eyes on the tile floor. He knows that if he looks up, that it will make all of this  _ real _ . And he's not sure if he can handle having to come to terms with the kiss they shared and the emotions that have passed between them. 

“Dead serious, sweetcheeks,” Gladio replies quickly, and he shifts his body to completely cut off Prompto's escape.

Prompto considers ducking around Gladio and trying his luck at a swift exit, but before he even realises it, those colossal arms are closing in on him. All Prompto can do is let out a startled gasp as he is trapped and easily pulled into Gladio's embrace with his arms pinned at his sides. He squirms instinctively, his sensitive skin not used to being touched by another person. Every inch where their bare flesh presses together, Prompto feels like he's on fire, and he’s not too sure if it’s actually a bad thing. His flailing is fruitless, and Gladio locks the smaller boy in a firm hug. It's at this point that Prompto realises that he's the perfect height to bury his face into Gladio's chest, right between his perfectly sculpted pecs--

“ _ Gl-Gladiolus Amicitia _ ! Is that-- Are your  _ nipples pierced _ ?” Prompto demands, his voice a few octaves too high. He feels flushed from his collar all the way to the tips of his ears -- or maybe that's just the overwhelming warmth from Gladio's bare chest -- as he stares openly at the bits of metal sticking through the other man’s nipples. Of all the people to have such a piercing, Gladio is certainly the last person Prompto expected. Then again, the shield  _ is  _ covered in several weeks’ worth of ink, so maybe this discovery shouldn’t be all that surprising. 

Gladio chuckles and playfully squeezes Prompto, putting his flushed face ever closer to that beautiful chest. “You just noticed?” 

“Well, I’ve never… looked, really. And I’ve never been this up close and personal with your tits before,” Prompto retorts moodily. But, it’s clear that his grumbling is merely an act, a front to maintain some sense of dignity in this embarrassing situation. Besides, why had Gladio assumed that Prompto would know something so… intimate about him? It’s not like Prompto stares at him when he’s not looking or snaps secretive photos of him or anything. 

Being in his embrace, Prompto can feel the vibrations through Gladio as he laughs some more. It’s oddly soothing, until his chuckles subside and he replies, “Hm, I hope you’re not complaining about _my_ _tits_ , because I think I’ll have you join me in the tub, you dirty boy.” 

And holy fuck did Gladio’s voice get real deep and husky as he enunciated ‘ _ dirty boy _ ’, the sound stirring that dark desire deep inside Prompto, and he has to bite his lip to keep from whining in response. He realises that Gladio seems to be waiting for some kind of answer, so Prompto nods his head, suddenly feeling very tense and anxious all over again. The arms surrounding Prompto begin to loosen, and he exhales shakily. Once completely free, he takes a quick step back, putting distance between himself and the intimidating expanse of Gladio’s chest and those tempting pierced nipples. The larger man doesn’t move, just watches Prompto, as if waiting for him to try to escape again. And, for a split second, the boy considers just that -- because holy shit did he seriously just agree to  _ bathe _ with this man that he just _ kissed _ , this wonderful beautiful specimen that he's been  _ pining over for months _ , or maybe even  _ years _ ?

Instead, Prompto finds himself reaching up to grab at his vest and wordlessly push it over his shoulders until it falls to the ground in a heap. He still isn’t looking up at Gladio, has his eyes fixated on a stain in the tiles beneath him as if it's the most intriguing thing in the world. Prompto has to remind himself to breathe as his fingers quiver, fumbling to remove his gloves. He’s not sure why he doesn’t just say no and express his anxiety about this situation, about being a godsdamned virgin. Sure, this is something Prompto has fantasised about for the greater part of his adult life, but he isn’t sure he’s ready for it right here right now. Then again, if he doesn’t just go with it while he has this chance, will he ever truly be prepared? Besides, he’s already given the green light; it would be rude to back out now, right? 

A hand suddenly envelopes Prompto’s forearm, halting his actions, and his head snaps up to find Gladio looking down at him with a concerned expression. “Prom, if you don’t want this…” Gladio begins, but trails off, an almost hurt look crossing his features. It makes Prompto’s chest ache.

“No! Th-that’s not it. I--” Prompto stops, unsure of what to say. Or rather, how to say it. “I… I do want  _ this _ .” That still doesn’t sound right, and Prompto lets out a frustrated sigh. His vision wanders from Gladio’s eyes down to his plump lips, to that mouth that conveyed so much through the simplest of contact. 

And, without another thought, Prompto closes the distance between them, balances on the tips of his toes, and gives Gladio a hurried peck on the lips, their noses bumping roughly. The boy never thought that kissing could be so difficult. When Prompto pulls away all too soon, his face feels unbelievably hot, and he’s certain that his heart will burst out of his chest. Did he really just do that?! Gladio looks stunned, and for a second, Prompto worries that he did the wrong thing. What if he ruined everything? But then, Gladio cracks a dazzling smile, and Prompto is powerless as he grins back. 

“So, this is okay? You can say no,” Gladio asks, his voice quiet, a bit hesitant. He still looks worried, like he can read just how grossly inexperienced Prompto is.

“Yes, it’s really okay. More than okay,” Prompto insists fervently with a nod. 

The tension in Gladio’s face eases, and Prompto feels nervous -- in a good way? -- by the shift in the other man’s demeanour. One moment, Gladio is unusually tentative, and the next he’s reaching a hand out to the blonde, pressing his palm against a freckled cheek and sliding his fingers back to card through those golden locks. Prompto melts into the gentle touch, his eyes drooping shut and something like a purr reverberating in his throat. He wants to be caressed like this everywhere.

Gladio leans forward to press their mouths together again, but this time, it’s more urgent. He uses the leverage he has on Prompto’s head to angle his face just right, carefully though so that their mouths fit together perfectly and he may deepen the kiss without any more clumsy nose bumping. Gladio’s beard tickles Prompto’s cheek, and he almost flinches away from the sensation. But he doesn’t want this to stop. Not now. Not ever.

As if Gladio could read Prompto’s mind, he parts his lips just enough so that he can rasp his tongue over the blonde’s closed mouth and draw out a surprised mewl. Is Prompto supposed to open his mouth too? He’s never kissed anyone in his life. At least, not like this. He has no idea what to do and isn’t sure how to feel about the fact that Gladio seems so confident in his movements. Maybe it’s for the best that at least one of them knows what to do. Eager to please, Prompto mimics the action and earns himself a low growl from Gladio. And if his head wasn’t being cradled, Prompto would definitely have swooned right there. 

When they finally pull apart, Prompto is panting for air, because in his excitement he had forgotten that he’s able to breathe through his nose. Gladio smirks in amusement, and Prompto watches him lean closer once more, and he thinks that if they kiss again, he will surely pass out from lack of oxygen. Fortunately, those lips instead come down on Prompto's forehead in a ghost of a kiss. Gladio pulls back just enough to move his face and repeat the action on each of the blonde’s cheeks, and lastly, his nose. The soft pecks make Prompto feel all sorts of light and fuzzy inside, like he would float away were he not being held in place.

“Hm, so your tongue  _ is _ pierced,” Gladio hums, and Prompto’s mind is so foggy that he almost doesn’t register the statement.

“Uh, y-yeah? Is that… is it okay?” Prompto murmurs back, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about his own body modification. It was something he had done during his ‘rebellious teens’, and it gradually grew on him as he got older, so he never took it out. He’s honestly surprised Gladio hadn’t noticed it until now.

Gladio perks a brow and lets out a quiet snort. “Oh, it’s perfect, Prom.” The sly grin on the man’s face goes straight to Prompto’s dick, and he wants to hide in embarrassment. It’s not fair how Gladio turns him into mush so easily. “So, bathtime?” Gladio reminds the flustered boy, his tone barely above a whisper.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaah im so sorry i took such a long time to post this;;; also, apologies for another kinda sudden ending! i plan on having a short morning-after chapter to wrap everything up (and hopefully that one doesn't take forever lmao). thanks for all of the feedback and i hope y'all enjoy this

Prompto blinks rapidly, still recovering from Gladio's kiss and his moan and smile and his  _ everything _ , before nodding, because he knows that his voice would fail him if he tried to speak. That answer is good enough for Gladio, and he slides his hands from Prompto’s neck, down his chest, all the way to the hem of his tank top; Prompto follows that amber gaze to where the other man slips his fingers under the thin black fabric, and the boy abruptly sucks in a breath and shudders at the contact between his bare, untouched skin and Gladio’s fingers. He worries his lip between his teeth, a futile attempt to stifle his excited moans. Prompto feels like a coiled spring ready to burst, all of the anticipation making him tense to the point that his shoulders ache. The boy is astounded at how he is simultaneously relaxed and worked up by the simple touch of the other man.

Once Gladio has the entirety of both of his palms pressed against Prompto’s stomach, he looks up to meet those wide blue eyes, a silent question passing between them. Prompto gives another hurried nod, desperate to have the man continue to caress him. For once in his life, the blond doesn’t care about the ugly stripes marking his stomach. He can’t be bothered to feel diffident about the constant reminder of who he was and how he worked so hard to fix and improve himself. Now that he’s had a taste of what Gladio has to offer, Prompto wants more. No,  _ needs _ more. And he won’t let something as silly as self-loathing get in his way. 

Without further delay, Gladio easily pushes Prompto’s shirt up, exposing the boy’s chest as he glides his hands up the boy’s abdomen. He spreads his fingers when he crosses over that freckled chest. For a moment, Prompto searches Gladio’s face for disgust. But the only thing he finds is adoration and lust. When the larger man reaches Prompto’s nipples, he stops a moment to rub his thumbs over hardening nubs of pink flesh and is rewarded with a sharp gasp. Prompto’s heart skips a beat, and the look Gladio gives him causes a familiar heat to spark in his groin. No one has ever touched him like this -- not even himself. He never thought that a man could feel so excited from having his nipples played with, and if Prompto had known sooner, he definitely would have been trying it for himself. 

“Still good?” Gladio inquires, arching a brow. He sounds more smugly intrigued than worried, and that only furthers Prompto’s desire.

“Yes,  _ really good _ . Keep going,” Prompto urges, unaware of just how shamelessly needy he sounds.

Gladio smirks, and if Prompto had known better, he would have tried to sound just a tiny bit less desperate, because suddenly Gladio is leaning down and his mouth is coming dangerously close to Prompto’s chest and--

“ _ Fuuuck _ ,” Prompto moans as his head falls back. Pleasure emanates through him from where Gladio laps at one of his erect nipples, before he bares his teeth and begins to gently nibble. Prompto’s hands instantly come up, needing to hold onto something,  _ anything  _ to keep himself grounded, so he takes up two fistfuls of Gladio’s unruly hair and tugs harshly on it. 

“ _ Shit _ , Prom,” Gladio hisses, pulling back with the sudden force to groan breathily. Prompto snaps to attention, glancing down in fear that he hurt the other man, but instead finds a look of unbridled lust on Gladio’s features. Well then.

Prompto gives another pull on Gladio’s hair, more gentle and experimental this time, and the growl that he elicits from the larger man makes that warmth in his abdomen blossom. Prompto angles Gladio’s face upwards so that he can drink up that delicious expression, wishing that he could snap a photo and carry it with him forever. The boy swallows and leans forward, his libido beginning to outweigh his nerves. Hastily, he mashes their open mouths together, not bothering to consider how their teeth clack, and he greedily inhales Gladio’s moan. 

The two kiss each other breathless and when they finally pull apart, their chests are pressed together as they gasp for air and stare intensely into each other’s eyes. Gladio is the first to react, standing to his full height and impatiently yanking Prompto’s shirt the rest of the way off. He wastes no time in turning his attention to the boy’s pants next, expertly undoing the button and zipper. Prompto holds his breath, the anticipation killing him. This is what he’s dreamt about for so long, and  _ it’s actually happening _ . Once his zipper is undone, the blond hooks his thumbs into his waistband, and he eagerly pushes his pants down. He has to keep pressing forward or his nerves will take over again.

Prompto can hear Gladio let out a soft chuckle, and the boy’s head tilts up to catch that tender expression on his face. “You have to get rid of these, too.” The larger man reaches out to pluck at Prompto’s bright yellow underwear for emphasis. Of course he had to wear his Chocobo-patterned briefs today of all days.

“I-I know that!” Prompto retorts, swatting at Gladio’s hand. He takes a deep breath, trying to prepare himself.

Meanwhile, Gladio easily slips his boxer briefs down his hips and kicks them to the side as if it’s the most casual thing he’s ever done. Prompto’s wide eyes immediately latch onto the massive log that hangs between Gladio’s thighs, and he stares openly. It doesn’t even look like Gladio is fully erect yet; that thought makes Prompto shudder, in terror or excitement, he isn’t entirely sure. A large hand enters the boy’s vision, and he watches as Gladio shamelessly grabs at the base of his own shaft and strokes his length to full attention. The boy bears witness to Gladio’s dick nearly doubling in size, and he’s positive that this is simultaneously the hottest and the scariest thing he’s ever seen. 

“This ain't a free show, buttercup,” Gladio speaks up playfully. 

Prompto meets those smoldering eyes and swallows hard, willing himself to go on. With his hands still trembling, the blond pushes his last remaining defense off his hips and down his thighs until they join the pile of his frumpled clothes on the floor. He almost sighs in relief as his erection is freed because he hadn't realised just how painfully hard he has become. 

“So cute,” Prompto hears Gladio murmur, and the boy fumbles to cover himself, his confidence wavering. There’s no way he can compete with the other man, and he suddenly feels emasculated. That is, until Gladio continues his quiet praises, “So sexy, so beautiful, so stunning-- _ holy fuck _ .”

Prompto finds it hard to breathe, his heart feels like it's grown tenfold and is straining to burst out of his chest. He brings his head up to catch that lustful gaze on Gladio's face, and he can feel his dick twitch excitedly. The larger man is still lazily stroking himself, his eyes wandering up and down Prompto hungrily. He’s never felt so desired before.

“C’mon, in the bath,” Gladio orders curtly. He stops touching his cock, letting it hang heavily between his legs. Gods, Prompto knew the other man would be big, but did he have to be  _ that _ big? 

Aside from the sound of water gently splashing about, Gladio is silent as he steps into the bath. Prompto just stares, mesmerised by the rippling of the shield’s muscles as he sinks into the water. “ _ Prompto! _ ” Gladio’s demanding tone cuts through the haze in the boy's mind, and he's quick to follow.

Prompto approaches the tub, still covering himself as he looks on with apprehension. “Um, are we going to… fit?”

“Only one way to find out,” Gladio responds impatiently before reaching for Prompto's wrist and tugging him closer. The blond has no choice but to step into the tub or risk losing his balance and falling in. 

“Ah, shit! It's hot!!” Prompto hisses as soon as his toes touch the water. Nonetheless, he wills himself to plant both feet in the tub until he awkwardly stands with a foot on either side of Gladio's thick thighs. It really is going to be a tight fit.

Gladio doesn't seem to hear Prompto grumbling about the scalding water, is too busy staring up at the boy and letting his large palms wander over freckled thighs. Prompto shivers even though he feels very warm, and he is quick to forget that the skin on his feet is burning off in the too hot bath. 

_ This is totally happening _ .

“Don't be so shy. C’mere,” Gladio coos, coaxing Prompto down by tugging on the backs of his knees.

Prompto feels like he's in some kind of trance as he complies and wordlessly lowers himself so that he's straddling Gladio's lap. The shield can't keep his hands off the smaller boy, planting his palms on those bony hips to pull him into place. As more of their skin touches, they both gasp in anticipation. Despite how hot the water is, Prompto is distinctly aware of how much warmer Gladio’s flesh is. Has the other man always been a human space heater? Gladio is the first to exhale in a loud groan accompanied by a quick upward buck of his hips that has the water sloshing over the rim of the tub. Prompto whimpers, their erections rubbing together frictionlessly at the movement and making him quiver. He has dreamed of this for so long, but none of that could compare to what he's experiencing right now.

“A- _ ah! _ Gla…  _ Gladio _ ,” Prompto murmurs, wanting to say something,  _ anything _ to convey how amazing he feels.

“Yea, babe? Feel good?” Gladio whispers back, drifting his hands up Prompto’s back and pulling him down so that their chests touch. “Tell me.”

Prompto feels like he’s running a fever, but he knows it’s just from the heat of the bath and the fact that all the blood in his body is busy trying to simultaneously fill his dick and flush his cheeks. He breathes slowly, trying to clear his mind and process it all and not pass out.

“Y-yes.  _ Really _ good. Um,” Prompto begins, but his words teeter off into a mumble as he looks away. He can’t believe he’s still acting like a blushing virgin at this point.

Gladio abruptly cups Prompto’s jaw, angling his head to the side before leaning forward and clamping his mouth around a sweet spot right where the boy’s neck and shoulder meet. Prompto lets out a broken moan, his body going rigid as something tingly explodes through him and makes it impossible for him to catch his breath. He digs his nails into Gladio’s shoulders, a feeble attempt to ground himself, while the larger man suckles on his freckled flesh, grazing his teeth across the tender spot and making the blond squirm.

“ _ Holy shit-- ohmyfuckingsix, _ ” Prompto curses breathlessly, and he gradually comes to the realisation that he’s  _ orgasming  _ \-- already! And they haven’t even  _ done anything  _ yet.

Gladio pulls back with a wet pop and a smirk. He looks at a very flustered Prompto before glancing down between them at the milky white evidence swirling in the water, and the blond wants to die when he hears the other man snort in amusement. “Got it that bad, huh?” he teases.

“Sh-shut up!” Prompto gasps out, his high swiftly subsiding and utter mortification taking its place. He ducks his head and hides in the crook of Gladio’s shoulder, completely ashamed that he finished so quick. 

“Aw, it’s alright, babe. If you’ve still got the energy, we can keep--”

Prompto suddenly lifts his head and cuts Gladio off with another one of his messy kisses, needing desperately to prove to the shield that he can do this. Gladio doesn’t protest, merely wraps his arms around the boy’s waist and bucks his hips roughly so that their dicks slide against one another. Already, Prompto can feel himself growing hard, and each movement of Gladio’s pelvis has him mewling into the other man’s mouth. 

“Yea, Prompto, tell me more. Keep making those --  _ nngh _ \-- noises, babe,” Gladio growls against Prompto’s jaw before sucking the blond’s lower lip between his teeth. 

“Ah,  _ fuck _ , Gladio--!” Prompto whimpers. He can feel the pressure building in his abdomen at an exponential rate once more, his dick painfully sensitive after his orgasm. He really doesn’t want to come  _ twice _ before he can even get Gladio off once. “S-slower,  _ please _ .” 

“Hm?” Gladio pulls back, halting entirely in his movements to fix Prompto with a concerned frown. “You okay?”

Prompto nods weakly, and Gladio pushes his golden hair from his sweaty face. “I just… don’t want to…  _ y’know _ …” 

Gladio cracks a half-smile. “Of course, babe. I’ll slow it down,” he obliges. “Here.” 

Gently, Gladio repositions Prompto higher on his lap so that their erections are no longer touching. The blond sighs, and he’s unsure if it’s from relief or disappointment. When he looks up at the larger man, he catches that endearing grin on his face and can’t help smiling back. 

“M-maybe we could, I don't know… actually bathe?” Prompto suggests timidly.

Gladio lets out another amused huff before nodding in agreement. He shifts to reach for a washcloth and one of the motel's tiny complementary bars of soap that sit on the counter. Once the man has lathered up the cloth, he raises a brow expectantly at Prompto.

“Gimme an arm,” Gladio orders softly.

Prompto giggles uneasily, offering his arm, which the larger man takes by his wrist and begins scrubbing at his filthy flesh. “I thought this was supposed to be the other way around?”

“Hm, I did say that, didn't I,” Gladio muses, but shows no signs of ceasing his soothing washing of the grime on Prompto’s bicep and shoulder.

“I-I’m not complaining, though!” Prompto quickly interjects before letting out a low moan as those thick fingers work their way down into the tense muscle of his forearm. The boy never imagined that Gladio could be so gentle and caring in his actions.

“I know, babe.”

Once Gladio finishes with Prompto’s one arm, the blond shifts to give access to his other side. At this angle, Prompto is able to reach for his own washcloth and lather it up. He gazes down at the daunting expanse of Gladio's chest. Taking in a deep breath, Prompto begins rubbing the cloth over the shield's collar, very aware of just how close he is to those decorated nipples. He can't stop staring at Gladio's beautiful sun-kissed skin with all of its faded scars and striking ink. Prompto thanks the Six for giving him the opportunity to admire the other man's beauty up close like this -- he could honestly die happy right here.

“Beautiful,” Prompto mutters under his breath while he moves lower to wash Gladio's firm pectorals. He temporarily forgets his anxieties and can only think about how badly he wants to touch Gladio. Wide blue eyes are drawn to the piercings in the man's nipples, and Prompto lets out an involuntary whine as he tries to quell his desire. 

“Go ahead,” Gladio says, amusement in his tone. Prompto whips his head up to see Gladio grinning down at him. “You can play with them.”

Prompto can't resist beaming excitedly. He lets the washcloth slip from his grasp so he can lay each of his palms over the toned muscles of the man's breasts. He squeezes gently, choking on his own whimper of joy at just how good Gladio feels beneath his hands. The boy's fingers quiver as he hesitantly prods at the metal bars. When the sound of Gladio groaning reverberates throughout the room, Prompto nearly jumps out of his skin.

“I-I barely even--”

“Keep touching me,” Gladio grunts, dropping his own washcloth in favour of spreading his palms over the boy's back.

That commanding tone makes the heat coiling in Prompto's pelvis grow, and he immediately complies. With a bit more confidence, the boy pinches Gladio's nipples between his fingers and gently rolls them. He listens for how the larger man's breath catches in his throat before he lets it out in a low groan. Prompto takes his time pinching and gently pulling at the hard nubs, Gladio's deep moans encouraging the boy's movements. 

“Yea, just like that,” Gladio breathes out, followed by another loud grunt. 

Prompto realises that his mouth has been hanging open in awe, and he immediately snaps his jaw shut and swallows audibly. “I-it doesn't… hurt?” He gives a rough tug for emphasis, which only elicits another erotic sigh from Gladio.

“Not one bit, hun,” Gladio replies with a cocky smirk while his hands slide up from where they've been massaging Prompto's lower back to rest on the blond’s shoulders. “Use your mouth.”

Prompto doesn't even try to resist as he's pulled forward until he's at eye-level with that amazing chest. He smiles up at Gladio, tucking his hair behind his ear before sticking out his pierced tongue and rasping it over a nipple, making sure the barbell digs into the sensitive skin. Prompto can feel Gladio shudder beneath him, and the larger man's hips jerk up against his ass.

“Don't be such a tease. C’mon,” Gladio hisses through his teeth as he leans his head back. Prompto wishes he could see the expression on the shield's face right now.

Nevertheless, Prompto follows his order and parts his lips to clasp them over an entire nipple and suck it into the heat of his mouth. Gladio is quick to grab a fistful of Prompto's hair and ass in each massive hand, harshly digging his nails into the boy's flesh and eliciting a small breathy moan. Gladio ruts his hips up in a sporadic rhythm, sliding his erection along the crevice of Prompto's ass and causing the water in the tub to slosh about precariously. The blond is sure that he can hear the other man murmuring something aggressive under his breath, but it's hard for him to be certain as his mind goes foggy with lust from the teasing. 

“Gods _ damnit _ , Prompto,” Gladio groans loudly, tugging on the boy's hair to pull him off his nipple with a wet pop. “You make me so fucking hard.”

Prompto can feel his dick twitch against Gladio's abs at the dirty praise, and he licks his lips playfully. He  _ needs _ to hear Gladio say more things like that. The way it goes straight to his groin and makes his heart flutter feels too damn good.

“Wh-what else-- tell me what to do,” Prompto nearly begs while his hands wander up to lightly knead at Gladio's pectorals. 

Gladio smirks, leans down, and greedily devours Prompto's mouth. The boy is quick to part his lips and coyly swipe his tongue against the other man's fat lower lip, a silent plea for more. Gladio doesn't hesitate to yank on his fistful of golden locks in order to angle Prompto's head to the side and deepen the kiss with a possessive groan, pushing his tongue deep into the blond’s mouth to lick across his teeth. 

Never before did Prompto think that he would find it this hot to have someone else's tongue almost down his throat, but something about that thick slimy muscle dominating his mouth is extremely arousing; he lets out a pathetic whimper that the shield just swallows whole. The room is filled with the filthy sounds of Prompto trying to suck on Gladio's lips, tongue, whatever he can latch onto, and Gladio's responding grunts. 

When they finally pull apart, a string of saliva connects their swollen mouths. Their chests heave in unison as they try to catch their breaths. Gladio is the first to recuperate, grinning devilishly as he tenderly cups Prompto's jaw. 

“This is a good look on you,” Gladio whispers as he swipes his thumb across Prompto’s bruised lips. He leans forward to kiss at the shell of the blond's ear. “I can't wait to wreck you even more.”

The damp warmth of Gladio’s breath across his ear causes Prompto to shiver and let out an involuntary moan, arching his back to needily rub his ass against the larger man's dick. “P-please,” he whines, despite how his pride screams at him to have a bit more dignity. But at this point, the boy has thrown all of his shame out the window. If this turns out to be some disgusting wet dream, he wants to enjoy it to its fullest.

“Yea?” Gladio encourages breathily, laving a tongue over Prompto's earlobe. He slides both of his massive hands over the boy's ass and squeezes. “Tell me what you want, buttercup.”

Prompto squirms as he tries to suppress his moans and presses himself closer to Gladio's sculpted chest, digging his fingertips into taut skin. “ _ That-- _ ” is all he manages to say before his cheeks are grabbed roughly and he feels the stiff length of the other man's dick rub against his sensitive asshole. Any words Prompto was about to utter come out as a choked moan. 

“Sorry, hun, I'm --  _ ahhh _ \-- getting a bit impatient.” Gladio sounds the furthest thing from apologetic as he continues to slowly rub himself against Prompto. “Can I…?”

Before Gladio can even finish, Prompto is enthusiastically nodding his head in the crook of the other man’s neck and lifting his hips upward to a more favourable angle. He would do anything Gladio asked of him right now. The shield's chest rumbles with a chuckle as he gives a final grope of Prompto's exposed ass; those calloused fingers inch their way closer to the boy's entrance. He feels lightheaded, his breath stuck in his chest as the anticipation suffocates him. 

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” Gladio's voice is low and soft. Prompto nods again, more slowly this time to show his understanding of the gravity of the situation.

When Prompto feels one of Gladio's fingers prod at his hole, he instinctively tenses up and flinches away. Gladio retreats his finger, obviously concerned for the boy in his arms. Prompto flushes with embarrassment and ducks in the cover of Gladio’s shoulder. Here he is moaning and begging like some horny, shameless pervert, but as soon as they start getting somewhere, he gets nervous and shies away. He feels like an idiot. How could Gladio want to be with him when he’s acting like this?

“Shhh, it’s alright, babe. You’re doing great. Don’t be so anxious,” Gladio coos, his mouth still right next to Prompto’s ear. That deep, smooth voice sends an electrifying warmth through the blond, and he feels himself relaxing in Gladio’s arms. “I’ve got you, okay? Let me make you feel good.”

Prompto breathes in through his nose, holds it until the count of three, before exhaling slowly through his mouth. He can do this. Everything will be okay. He can trust Gladio. One large hand rubs up and down the boy’s spine as the other man waits patiently for a sign to continue; it comes in the form of Prompto gingerly kissing along Gladio’s clavicle and pushing his ass back against the palm that still rests there. 

“You good?”

“Y-yea.” Prompto’s voice is barely a whisper, and he curses himself for even trying to speak. Every sound that comes out of him sounds like a pathetic plea. 

Gladio hums in satisfaction while his hand creeps along the crack of Prompto’s ass once more. This time when he presses the pad of his finger against the boy, he doesn’t pull away. The larger man takes his time, gently swirling his digit along the ring of muscle and feeling it slowly relax. Gladio continues to mumble quiet encouragement and praise to Prompto, who responds with muffled moans. It feels like forever has passed before Gladio is finally pressing his finger in deeper, and yet when it happens, Prompto is sure that it’s too soon. The blond presses himself flush against the shield’s chest, feeling so exposed and vulnerable and just downright  _ uncomfortable _ as he’s penetrated. 

“Hm, you’re doing wonderful, Prompto,” Gladio comments, and Prompto can hear the smile in his voice. That should be enough to comfort the boy, but he can’t shake how strange this all is.

“Ah, Gladio… It feels…  _ weird _ ,” Prompto whines as the finger presses deeper inside of him, and he squirms in response. 

Gladio chuckles, but doesn’t pull out. “It’s going to, babe. Don’t worry, though. It’ll feel good soon enough.”

The pressure of having Gladio’s finger inside of him is wildly disconcerting, yet, at the same time, Prompto can feel the coil of pleasure in his gut gradually increasing. He frowns in concentration, trying to will this experience to be instantly gratifying. Even when Prompto had touched himself like this, it was awkward and strange, and he never got very far with it. He wondered if maybe he was broken or he was doing it wrong? But, having Gladio’s finger press in further still with no significant amount of satisfaction has Prompto thinking that this must just not be for him. He should be feeling  _ something _ by now, right--

“ _ Holyfuck! _ ” 

“There we go.” Gladio sounds way too proud of himself as he strokes his fingertip over  _ that spot _ \-- his prostate, as Prompto will later figure out -- another time, causing the shaky boy to whimper. He takes this opportunity to retreat so that he can add another one of his thick fingers before pushing at the boy’s open entrance once more. He meets little resistance, a mixture of his initial penetration and the warm bath water making his movements go smoothly. 

“Gl-Gladio--” Prompto gasps as he’s stretched further. It burns, but the excitement of Gladio touching him  _ there _ again helps him through the dull ache. His heart pounds, making his thoughts swirl into an incoherent song of want and desire. 

“You’re doing great, babe. Keep relaxing. I’ve got you. I’m gonna make you feel so good,” Gladio keeps repeating right against Prompto’s ear. He uses his free hand to rub his palm over the boy’s hip and thigh soothingly.

“W-wait, though…” Prompto gasps, pushing himself back to look up at a perplexed Gladio. “I-I want to… I want to make you feel… good, too.” His voice cracks as he fumbles for the words. It feels so silly to say something like that out loud.

Gladio's concerned frown immediately flips into a pleased smirk, his fingers continuing to slowly work their way in and out of the boy. “Go ahead, buttercup.”

Prompto flushes, his gaze immediately falling between them to where Gladio's erection presses against his pale stomach. The large, stiff appendage is mostly submerged in the water, its visage obscured and actually making it appear more intimidating. Nevertheless, Prompto is urged onward as Gladio begins to deliberately stretch him, spreading his fingers apart and causing the boy to push backwards needily. He slides a hand down the shield's chest, and once his fingers finally graze the tip of that behemoth erection, he feels Gladio tense up.

“Yea, like that,” Gladio urges through his teeth. He pushes his fingers in deep, earning a startled moan.

Without further delay, Prompto presses his palm down the exposed underside of Gladio's dick. The larger man ruts up in response, clearly just as desperate for this contact and release as Prompto is. The boy feels his heart pound, elated to know that those groans are because of  _ him _ \--  _ he is doing this to Gladio _ . Prompto grins giddily to himself as he rubs his hand over Gladio's erection, all the way to the tip where he gently presses his thumb into the slit. 

“Oh  _ fuck _ , babe,” Gladio grunts.

Between Gladio’s fingers --  _ three  _ of them now -- fervently working Prompto open and those lewd moans of his, the boy can feel that his ( _ second _ !) release is imminent. He bites his lip, trying to will his climax away, but not wanting things to slow down. It all just feels too godsdamned good. Prompto trails his eyes down Gladio’s torso and focuses on that monster dick of his, how red and swollen and beautiful it looks nestled in a bush of dark curls. It contrasts enticingly against the blond’s small lithe hand, and the artist inside of Prompto muses about how poetic the composition is. 

“Shit, Prom, if you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna come,” Gladio growls, jerking Prompto out of his thoughts.

Prompto stutters for a heartbeat, but quickly recovers to flash Gladio a self-satisfied smirk. He purposefully glances down, giving that delicious cock a long, appreciative gaze before bringing his eyes up to meet dark amber ones swirling with lust. Something comes over Prompto as he parts his mouth just enough to suggestively dart his tongue across his lips. A voice in the back of the boy’s mind screams about how embarrassing it is for him to be acting so lewd, but it’s easily muffled by the hormones clouding his mind.

Gladio returns the grin. “Damn, if only I had done this sooner,” he begins, purposefully pushing his fingers as far as he can inside of Prompto. “Would have saved me many sleepless nights thinking about you in this exact position.” 

And that’s what pushes Prompto over the edge this time. He feels the pressure in his groin release at all once, completely knocking the breath out of him, and he hadn’t thought it possible, but this orgasm is even more intense than the first. He’s reduced to a mess of weak sobs, begging Gladio to keep going. But, the other man doesn’t oblige, instead slowly pulling his fingers out of Prompto and opting to gently swirl around the smaller boy’s greedy hole, subtly adjusting their positions in the process.

“I have to admit, though, I never thought you’d be this much of a slut,” Gladio teases, and he leans forward to press his mouth to the top of Prompto’s head. 

Prompto tries to move, wants to utter some sort of protest to defend his pride, but Gladio pulls him closer, wrapping one massive arm around the boy’s waist to hold him still, effectively silencing him. Gladio’s other hand, still teasing Prompto’s pucker, squeezes his ass cheek to stretch him open. At first, Prompto doesn’t realise what’s going on, is still flustered from his orgasm and the older man’s teasing. But, then, as he feels something blunt and hot at his entrance, it dawns on Prompto.

They’re going to have sex. Right here. Right now. In this motel bathtub.

This is certainly far from ideal, but as Prompto is still chasing the lingering high from his most recent orgasm, he’s strangely more than okay with this. Even as he feels Gladio’s dick press into him, stretching him in places fingers couldn’t reach, burning pain causing his eyes to prick with tears, it’s all just perfect. Gladio murmurs gentle encouragement and plants soft kisses to Prompto’s temple between groans. 

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight and hot, babe,” Gladio begins, and his words trail off into a string of nearly incoherent praises about how good Prompto feels, about how he’s taking Gladio’s cock so well.

All Prompto can do is bury his face into Gladio’s chest, dig his nails into taut muscle, bite his lip to silence his whimpers. It can’t be possible, but Prompto can feel his dick rising weakly once more, rallied by the overstimulation of his ass. Gladio continues his slow, agonising push into the smaller boy, and when he does finally bottom out, Prompto is sure an eternity has passed. He huffs out a content sigh, arching his back and craning his neck to pepper sweet kisses along Gladio’s clavicle, needing to express just how  _ pleased  _ he feels.

“Mhmm, you’re perfect, Prom,” Gladio hums. He doesn’t move for a bit, giving Prompto just enough time to relax and adjust to his massive size. “Are you doing alright?”

Prompto nods and kisses at Gladio’s neck, making soft whines. Gladio takes the hint, chuckling quietly. He plants both large palms on the boy’s hips and begins to leisurely pull out. It takes every ounce of willpower left in Prompto to not chase after Gladio’s dick, to slam himself back into place and be filled to the brim. Instead, he puts his trust in Gladio, goes almost slack in those strong arms as he’s easily maneuvered up and down at an unhurried pace.

“M-more, faster,” Prompto groans, all sense of shame out of the window. 

Gladio is quick to comply, immediately upping the rhythm and filling the room with the sound of their skin slapping together and what little water remains in the tub sloshing about. It’s too much, yet not enough. Prompto can’t silence the lustful greed filling his every sense, begging, whining, screaming for more and more. He wants to keep up this pace forever, to never feel empty again. He wants to chase this high of pleasure and the feeling of being desired and never let it go.

But, all too soon, Prompto can feel Gladio’s movements becoming erratic, impatient. His blunt nails dig into the younger boy’s hips, his grip unrelenting in his desperation for release. He drags Prompto down to meet his every thrust, forcing pathetic whines from the boy, grunting breathlessly with the exertion. Gladio huffs out something like a warning, but Prompto doesn’t heed it, instead kisses needily at the man’s neck and jaw. 

“Babe--  _ Prom _ , I’m gonna--” is all Gladio manages before he’s slamming into the blond one last time, his brow knotted with concentration. He suddenly tenses up and holds Prompto there on his lap, completely sheathed inside of him as he spills his load. “ _ Ohfuck _ .”

Prompto never thought he would be able to describe having his insides fucked raw, then painted with semen as  _ absolutely heavenly _ , but here he is. Knowing that he did this to Gladio, that he  _ earned _ this, has him moaning with ecstasy. Prompto can feel every hot inch of Gladio pulsating inside of him, and he squirms pathetically, wanting to milk the last drop from him. The blond kisses his way up from his lover’s heaving chest before capturing those thick lips and sharing his hot moans. After a few breathless moments, amber eyes flutter open to fix Prompto with an adoring look.

“You… you are  _ perfect _ ,” Gladio hums, finally pulling his softening cock out, and something sticky spills out with the movement. Prompto blinks back in surprise, somehow still bashful after all of that. The older man kisses the blond hard, stifling anything self-deprecating he may have said. “My Prompto. My perfect, wonderful, beautiful Prompto,” Gladio mutters against a very flustered Prompto’s bruised mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> *"Balneum" is a latin term for basically a bathtub/place of bathing.


End file.
